


A Place Where Even Queens Should Not Go

by honeylocust



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Apologies for this being emotionally all over the place, Gen, Lore Exploration, Post-Canon, violent imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22538521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeylocust/pseuds/honeylocust
Summary: In her research to understand the nature and effects of spirit-charming, Queen Micaiah has an encounter with a guest that she never thought would be possible.
Relationships: Micaiah & Pelleas (Fire Emblem), Micaiah & Sothe (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> There's always been parts of the lore in the Tellius games that I've found interesting. Due to Pelleas being my most favorite Tellius character, naturally I've become drawn towards the nature of dark magic, it's associations, and how it works in the universe of the Tellius games. Unfortunately there's not a lot in the text itself that explains it, so a lot that is featured here is pure headcanon on my end.  
> Another thing I want to note is that this is the first time in several years that I've written something, and this is actually the first fanfic I've ever written, so apologies if this all comes across as a bit awkwardly written orz

Micaiah stood in the halls of the Daein throne room. Feeling the air, she carefully took her steps in the dark room. “This place… No, something is off.” She stopped to look down at her hands. She felt as if she wasn’t quite in her own body, and the air of the throne room felt almost unsettling.

A dream. Yes, she was standing deep within a lucid dream.

Peering through the lowly-lit room, Micaiah saw the figure of a boy in ragged clothing sitting on the Daein throne. Just as she was about to take another step, the boy stood from the throne—the sudden action stopping Micaiah in her tracks. “Who—,” Micaiah paused to gather her bearings. “Who are you?” Though the boy smiled at her question, his eyes looked cold and lifeless. Framing his pale face was a mess of dark curls and waves that he brushed aside, revealing his forehead that was branded with a red mark.

There were only two people whom Micaiah knows that bear that mark, and as she examined the boy more closely, she couldn’t believe what she was about to ask.

“Pelleas, is that you?” Though a part of her felt foolish to ask such a question, the child truly did look like a younger version of the man she has come to know so dearly as not just as one of her most trusted advisors—but also as a treasured companion.

The boy’s smile grew even more, and he even let out a small laugh—as if he was looking forward to her asking that very question. As he began to reply to her question, Micaiah was taken aback by the Ancient Language that spilled from his lips.

“Oh, how perceptive you are, but not quite!” he laughed. “You creatures of flesh are full of surprises.”

Micaiah was perplexed by the terminology the child used. It was similar to that of Yune, a goddess that was unknowingly by her side for so long. “‘Creatures of flesh’?” she questioned back to him in the Ancient Language.

The boy’s eyes widened as he clapped his hands together in excitement. “And you can understand me, too!” Though his voice seemed fine at first, there were also instances that it became layered with the voices of many. Something of which that unnerved Micaiah to her core. Though she kept thinking to herself that this was all just a dream, there was something about this being in front of her that seemed almost too real. This person really can’t just be Pelleas as a child. Was this person even a Beorc? “Communication with creatures such as you has always been so limiting.” He sighed. “We are only spoken to by those who wish to use our power.” 

It slowly started making sense to her. His mannerisms, his use of language, his voice. His very presence just felt _so wrong_. “Please, just tell me who you are,” she pleaded. Her ability to read what others thought and felt had no power here.

The boy sighed once more. He could tell she was almost there with her internal deductions, but a part of her still had her doubts on who he was. Oh what little faith these transient beings have in themselves, even over the smallest things!

Micaiah kept her eye on the boy, and slowly turned as he walked past her. “Fine, since it appears that we will be going nowhere here with you little guess, I suppose I should tell you,” he said with his back facing her. “Outside of this place of ours here—” He paused, turning back around to Micaiah. “I am among what you creatures call ‘a spirit’. If you wish to believe me, that is,” he said with a grin as his cold eyes stared deeply into hers.

Micaiah was perplexed by what this “spirit” was telling her. Thinking back on the Goddess’ War, high up in the Tower of Guidance, she recalled as Sephiran—no, her forefather, Lehran—had many spirits at his side as they did battle. She remembered clearly how they may as well have been puffs of smoke. 

“I know what you are thinking, Queen Micaiah.” Micaiah was startled out of her thoughts as the spirit uttered her name without her ever giving it to him. “You would be correct in that beyond this space, I would not have the form that you see me with now.”

“I see…” To be having what felt like such a real conversation with this entity in what she previously thought was a mere dream, Micaiah wanted to believe that perhaps this was a true encounter with a spirit. And that there may be a reason for this meeting. Desiring to know more, Micaiah decided to play along with the spirit. “Alright then, Spirit. I have a few questions that I would like to ask you, if you do not mind?” she asked. From what she could tell after speaking with this spirit so far, she was able to see that he just wanted to have someone to talk to. So perhaps her question would yield some fruitful results for her.

The spirit smiled. “Of course, Queen Micaiah. I will answer all the questions that you have for me!” He said, his voice lively with eagerness.

Though there was a part of her that was glad that the spirit wished to continue chatting with her—possibly even answering any question that she would have for him, even—there was still a small voice in her head that told her that she may get some answers to her questions that she would regret ever asking.


	2. Chapter Two

Micaiah closed her eyes in repose as she anticipated what direction this conversation could possibly go. As she reopened her eyes, she saw that the throne room they were once standing in was now her personal study. Behind them were chairs that they each sat down in.

“For my first question, Spirit, how were you able to immediately guess my name?” she asked. Micaiah continued to remind herself to not treat this entire encounter as just a dream. “As far as I am aware, this is the first time we have ever met.”

“To my master, you are his most important person,” he answered. “Him and I are closely linked, so in time I have come to know all of what he knows and feels.” The spirit leaned back in his chair. “Your name and what he thinks of you is always in his thoughts. In all honesty, it is a bit annoying.”

_Master_. The title circled in her head. For someone using a title such as that, he seems to show little respect. Though Micaiah has always been aware of the way Pelleas feels towards her, the way the spirit was willing to state such intimate information so bluntly still left her feeling uneasy.

“In a sense, yes. When we made our pact long ago, I would be in service to him by providing him with my power as long as he let his soul be mine,” he said, pointing to the red mark on his forehead. "The mark you see here is proof of our bond, though I'm sure he has told that." 

The spirit looked to the side, a slight weariness unfolding in his expression. "Such a poor child," he said forlornly. "Desperation for protection drove him to me, and I could not resist obliging him." He leaned back further, stretching his legs out as he looked up to the ceiling. "On that day ten years ago, we were both reborn, in a way."

Micaiah's interest was piqued by what the spirit just said. "'Reborn', you say?" she questioned, leaned forward ever so slightly.

The spirit adjusted his seating once more, focusing his attention back on Micaiah. “My master was an especially frail child when I first met him. The appearance which I have before you right now is the one he had that day,” he said as he stood from his chair to present himself. “The process of us binding ourselves to you fragile beings is incredibly taxing on your bodies,” he said as he sat back down. “If it were not for the amount of essence that he already possessed, he would have died.”

“How awful…” was all that Micaiah could muster up to say. She recalled one of the times Pelleas confided in her of his past. Of what she remembered of that encounter, it was how he told her how he believed that who he was—or at least of part of who was—had died that day. 

The spirit continued on. “Though he lived, the pact he made with me only ended up adding more misery to his life.” The spirit let out a small laugh, as if he couldn’t help but find some amusement in this morbidly ironic twist. “After becoming a part of him, I became more alive—more aware of the world that existed around me." Though the spirit's expression was filled with wonder for a moment, it quickly became solemn. "I would also soon see great cruelty for the first time."

The air grew heavy. Micaiah swallowed in reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere of the room. 

She needed to speak up. "Yes, I am aware of what he had to endure after receiving the mark of the Spirit's Protection." Micaiah did her best to mask the bitterness she wanted to aim at the spirit, but she knew that risked offending him.

"Yes, I found it all strange at first," he said, cupping his chin in thought. "There were words hurled at him that I had no idea the meaning such as "Brann—" he paused, struggling to say the words in the Modern speech. "Words like 'Fil-thy Bran-ded' and, um, 'Sub-hu-man'," he said slowly, hoping for Micaiah to understand him through his accent.

"Ah, those words. Yes, they carry tremendous weight in this world," she said. Though Micaiah was pained by what Pelleas told her of all that he went through, what he said also unknowingly caused her to have anxieties regarding the brand she possessed.

"I did not understand at first, but I knew those were harsh in many ways by how much they made my master's heart hurt," he said, his hands grabbing the armrests of his chair tightly. "There were also those who would get physical, I did what I could to protect and ease him of his pain."

Micaiah couldn't help but dwell on what the spirit had told her thus far. "From what I can understand, it sounded like what you did went beyond just you simply adhering to the requirements of your pact with him," She said with a small smile. "You are close to him, it would seem."

The spirit widened his eyes briefly in surprise then let out a small laugh. "I guess that is a way to look at it. It looks like my constant pity grew into something much greater over time." He propped his head up with his arm on the armrest. “I even decided to be merciful, and let him have a small bit of his soul left during his inevitable final moments.”

A chill went down Micaiah’s spine upon hearing what the spirit just told her. She looked down to her lap, the fabric of her dress grasped tightly in her hands. “I see that no matter what, you will have to feed on his soul,” she tried to mutter under her breath. Frequently throughout what spare time that she has, Micaiah researches the nature of spirit-charming. And how to rid one of a spirit.

The spirit glared at her. “Yes, Micaiah, when he and I made our pact, we both knew that we will need to carry out to the end no matter what.” Micaiah was shocked that he heard her. "And no matter what you think you can do, you will never be able to get rid of me," he said.

Micaiah's heart began to beat fast. "How did you..."

The spirit got up from his chair. "Though I have not truly been 'alive' for too long, I am not a fool. You care too much for my master, and want him to live a long life," he said walking up to her. "You think that as Queen, you can simply interfere in the fates of others," he said, looking down at her with growing hostility.  Micaiah quickly stood from her chair, causing him to step back in surprise. 

"No, that's not it at all!" she quickly said in defense. The spirit immediately knowing of one of her abilities instinctively sent her into a panic. 

"Do not lie to me, I can always feel the presence of your unwelcomed eyes whenever you peer into my master's soul. While he may not be aware, _I am,"_ he said, his nails digging into his palms as he clenched his fists tightly.

Micaiah was taken aback by his anger. “I’m… I am sorry for offending you. I did not know,” she apologized. “I cannot always help it. If the emotions are strong enough, my powers pull me in.”

“While you claim that you cannot help it, there are still places that nosy queens such as yourself should not dig into.” More venom leaked into his tone as the spirit’s façade of civility broke down further.  Though a part of her wanted to concede that the spirit was justified in his accusations, she still wanted to continue her pursuit into researching ways in which she can help Pelleas. She knew there was no turning back now, not after all that she has done so far. After what her and Pelleas have both endured within the last few years, she was not going to let it all end like this.


	3. Chapter Three

As her attempts of apologizing or appealing to the spirit in order to de-escalate the growing tension between them began to fail, Micaiah saw that there would be no way to quell this growing hostility now. Whatever the spirit will throw at her, she was not going to back down.

“Though I have come to understand how close you are with your ‘Master’—,” Micaiah paused, gently placing her hand on the spirit’s shoulder. His serious expression broke into that of surprise for a brief moment. “I will not stand by and watch someone who I have come to love waste before me.” Despite her efforts, she knew that was a foolish statement to make. Even if Pelleas’ life was not cut short by being a Spirit-Charmer, she knew that he and many others who she held dear would not be able to stay by her side through the passage of time. The spirit himself began to look at her smugly as if he knew this fact was on her mind, too.

The spirit placed his hand on the one Micaiah had on his shoulder. A small shiver went up Micaiah’s spine to how cold he felt. "It is a shame that you will keep up with this nonsense." Suddenly, she winced in pain as the spirit tightly grasped her hand, his fingernails digging into her skin. “If you still desire to get rid of me, then you leave me no choice but to get rid of you." He threw her hand away from him. Before Micaiah could react, she found herself violently pushed to the floor. Despite his size, there was still a surprising amount of strength within him. Opening her eyes, she saw that the environment around them became engulfed in flames—a strong heat quickly enveloping the both of them. All of her work being reduced to nothing but ash, or so it would seem.

 _A dream, this is still just a dream,_ she thought to herself over and over again. While the light of the flames were still present, the heat no longer was. The spirit walked towards her, and Micaiah was snapped out of her thoughts by the sound of the wooden floor creaking beneath his footsteps. Looking up, she saw a malicious grin paint across the spirit’s face.

“How does it feel," he stopped, crouching down. "How does it feel to know that no matter how much of himself that he swears to you—how much of his very being he _gives_ to you—you will never truly have what’s most important,” the spirit taunted as Micaiah slid herself away from his steps. She could feel the smug sense of pride over the possession that he has over his “Master” in his words.

“Just what are you getting at?” Micaiah questioned. She tried to back away further, but was stopped by a wall. Looking around without trying to give her actions away, she tried to reach out to anything that she could use to throw at the boy, but there was nothing for her in this growing nightmare.

“All that I am ‘getting at’,” he leaned in on his hands, “is that his soul is mine and there is not a damn thing you can do to change that, you stupid girl,” he said in anger, lunging himself at her. “I will not let you get rid of me!” His fingers tangled into her hair, pulling hard. "I will not let you _kill_ me!" He attempted to use his other hand to grab at her throat, but Micaiah falling back let her slip from his reach.

“Get off! Get off of me!” Micaiah struggled to say, thrashing about in an attempt to throw him off of her. Though the rush of adrenaline provided her with some additional strength to fight, she felt herself become increasingly panicked as her lack of raw strength prevented her from being able to fight with ease. Just as the spirit was about to grab her neck again, Micaiah was able to grab him by his upper waist. She squeezed him tightly, digging her thin fingers into his ribs. As he winced in pain, a sudden surge of strength rushed through Micaiah. “I will not let you win!” she yelled as she threw him off of her, pinning him beneath her with what weight she has. Both her anger and the world around her began to unravel. Was this dream reacting to her actions? Or perhaps it was reflecting the weakening state of the spirit?

A dark rage clouded Micaiah’s mind, blinding her to what she was about to do.In a culmination of all of her anger and frustration, Micaiah wrapped her hands around the boy's neck.“No, I won’t let you, I won’t let you—,” the boy tried to yell what he said earlier, but was slowly cut off by a tight sensation wrapping around his neck. 

_This will all end here._ As she tightened her grip even more, memories and thoughts rushed through her mind. All of the times she remembered what her and Pelleas had to endure throughout the previous war, thoughts of the hardships that Pelleas experienced because of the mark the spirit branded upon that he confided to her, and finally the inevitable suffering that would befall him as the spirit fed on him more and more in the coming years—surely to cause him to slowly waste away. _He doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve that at all!_ Coming back to her senses, Micaiah noticed that the spirit was still putting up a fight. She tried to tighten the grip of her hands even more, but for some reason there was something preventing her. Her body grew weak.

“You… you stupid girl,” the spirit said weakly, reaching up to softly put his hands over hers. “No matter what you do, you will never be able to ‘save’ him in the way that you want,” Micaiah stopped, loosening her grip. She found herself finding it harder and harder to maintain her concentration. "There is a way to him 'release' him from me, but—"

Just as it would seem he was about to finish what he was saying, Micaiah's vision faded to black.

* * *

Micaiah’s eyes shot open, wet with tears. She quickly sat up and rubbed her throat. _Was I screaming?_ she thought, noting how sore it felt. To her left across the room from her bed, she heard the rattling of her door and the shaky jingling of keys. “Micaiah?” It was Sothe. She turned her head away to wipe the tears away. “Micaiah, are you alright?” he said, swinging the door open. A guard holding a lamp trailed behind. At the sight of the guard, Micaiah quickly hid her branded hand under her bed sheets.

“Sothe, yes I’m—” She paused, coughing to clear her throat.

“It sure doesn’t look like it,” Sothe said, sitting on the edge of Micaiah’s bed. His face was illuminated by the lamp as the guard stepped closer.

“We both were out doing our early morning patrolling of the halls and heard a scream come from your room, Your Highness,” said the guard with a hint of concern.

"I see." Micaiah felt a tinge of guilt for their concern over what she thought was a trivial matter. "I just had a bad dream, is all," she tried to say frankly in an attempt to ease their nerves. Looking at their faces, the guard looked to be more at peace. However, Sothe wasn't buying it, of course.

Noticing a change in the atmosphere, the guard stood back. "Ah, that's good to hear," he sighed. "With a scream like that, I thought we had a burglar on our hands," he said jokingly, trying to take the edge off.

"Heh, I can understand why you would think that," Micaiah said, trying to play along. However, she felt slight tension coming from Sothe who was not too keen on joining in. Micaiah's exposed hand softly gripped the fabric of her sheets. "I apologize for worrying you two," she said, looking down at her hand, "But I promise that I am alright." She looked and smiled at the two, and the guard smiled back.

The guard stepped back. "Well, if things are fine with you, Your Majesty, then I guess Sothe and I will resume to our morning patrol," he said. "Let's go, Sothe!" While he is eager to get back to his duties, Sothe was still uncomfortable with the situation—and Micaiah was very much aware.

"Um, actually, I would like for Sothe to stay with me a little while longer, if you wouldn't mind?" Though Micaiah is Queen of Daein, she is always so polite and considerate of those around her, regardless of rank.

The light of the rising sun slowly crept across the room. "I don't mind at all, Your Majesty. In fact, there's not much else left of the patrol, so I can manage the rest by myself easily." He made a slight now, and dismissed himself.

"Thank you," Micaiah said. She continued with keeping a calm demeanor as the guard made his way out of her chambers. Both her and Sothe watched as he slowly closed the door.

After a brief moment of silence, Sothe turned his head to Micaiah. “Alright, tell me,” he said sternly. “What’s bothering you? Because I don’t think a ‘bad dream’ would have you this shaken up.”

Micaiah looked down at her hands and sighed. “This will sound ridiculous but,” she paused, “But in my dream, I had an encounter with a dark spirit.”

Sothe raised an eyebrow. “Was that really it?”

"No," she replied. "We spoke, and—," she stopped, a feeling of unease creeping up her back. "What I'm trying to say is that I think I may have met with the spirit that resides in Pelleas' body."

Sothe gave her a perplexed look. “That’s impossible. I’m sorry, but I’m starting to think that this ‘research’ that you have been doing behind Pelleas’ back is starting to get to you.”

Micaiah couldn’t help but flinch a little at his accusation. “You’re probably right, but the whole encounter just felt so _real_.” She wanted to explain more about what the spirit looked like, and what it said to her, but her memory of the dream was already starting to blur.

Sothe sighed. “That’s unfortunately how it is with a lot of dreams.” He looked at Micaiah and could tell what he was saying was doing nothing in easing her mood. “Hey, look,” he gently grabbed her hands. "Maybe you should take a break from all this for a little while."

Micaiah was pleasantly surprised that he didn't suggest that she should completely stop. "I get what you're saying," she pulled her covers off, slowly stepping out of bed, "but I don't feel like I really have the time to stop and 'take a break'." She stood up, turning herself away from Sothe.

Sothe slowly stood up and scratched his head. "Well, I don't know what else to tell other than that if you keep at it like this, then I'm sure you'll have more nightmares." He folded his arms. "Remember, you're the queen now, and all I can really do is to remind you to take care of yourself, too."

He was right. "It is true that I lose myself sometimes in my studies." In reality "sometimes" was becoming "every time". She quickly turned to Sothe. “It’s just that I don’t know what I should do.” She reached out to hug him, her emotions finally spilling over. “Pelleas is slowly dying, and it kills me if all it is that I can do is stand and watch.” She sobbed out her frustration into his chest. “There has to be something that I can do!” Despite what leaps and bounds she and her companions have made regarding her nation’s restoration, this personal dilemma she faces gnaws at her deeply.

Sothe hugs her in return, some energy returning to her from the contact. "We'll figure something out, there's still so much of the continent that we still haven't searched." He let's go. "Don't forget, you always have that way of getting what you want. This won't be any different." Whether his optimism now was most likely just an act to help her feel better, Micaiah appreciated it regardless

Micaiah sniffled, wiping away what tears she had. "Heh, you've always said that about me." Her mood was lifting, even if only a little.

He smiled. "Because it's true." He turned himself to face the door. “Come on, the morning will be over before we know it.” He made his way toward the exit.

"Alright, I'll join up with you and everyone else once I'm dressed. I'm sure a servant is even on her way to here right now."

"See you soon, then."

"Yes, see you soon," she replied. And with one last nod to her, Sothe closed the door behind him. Alone in her room, Micaiah let out a deep sigh. _Don't forget, you always have that way of getting what you want._ Sothe's words rung through her head, but doubt still followed her. What if this was the one thing that she would not be able to change? She shook her head. No, in order to continue, she would need to cast off these doubts and persevere like she has always had.

Suddenly, a knock came from her door. "Your Majesty, are you awake? I've come to help you get dressed."

"Ah, yes, I'm awake. Thank you." Despite these personal matters, as the queen there were other duties that she knew would need to take priority. Perhaps next time when she is free, she will make her usual tea times with Pelleas a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for my first foray into fanfiction. Also, aaaaaah, apologies for this being so late! A combination of a busy work-life and just general lack of motivation will do that to you ha ha. Anyway, as stressful as this got, I hope some of you all enjoyed it lol.


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